


revealing the truth that was buried inside

by springawake



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Bisexual B. J. Hunnicutt, Bisexual Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce, M/M, as much as i agree with the interpretation that BJ is Repression King (tm), i can only write so much internalized homophobia before i get bummed out, i really had no idea where i was going with this when i started it, s9e17: bless you hawkeye, so hawkeye gets all the repression in this one lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27255103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springawake/pseuds/springawake
Summary: "So you altered the event. He didn’t push you in. He only pulled you out. And with that little piece of reality safely tucked away, so was your conflict."Turns out, Hawkeye altered something else.
Relationships: B. J. Hunnicutt/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48





	revealing the truth that was buried inside

“So you and Sidney figured it out? What was causing all the sneezing?”

“Yeah, it was just a symptom, Sidney said,” Hawkeye said, reaching across his bunk to fill BJ’s martini glass before topping off his own. “A symptom of, of something going on inside my head. A landmine I’d buried and then set off, years later,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. Sipping his lighter fluid gin.

BJ frowned, his glass loosely held in both hands, untouched. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“I didn’t either, not at first—the landmine Sidney talked about, it sounds like it was a defense mechanism I put up without realizing it,” Hawkeye explained, idly swirling his glass. “Hiding the truth of what really happened, years and years ago in my apparently not-so-idyllic childhood. And the smallest memory set it off, and _boom_ , here we are.” He flashed BJ a quick grin.

“Like Sgt. Neilson,” BJ said quietly. “You remember, the medic who came in with amnesia, after his kid brother died? Sidney said he’d blocked out the memory because it was so painful—he didn’t want it to be real. Was it something traumatic you were covering up?”

“Now hold on a sec,” Hawkeye said, setting his glass aside and sitting forward on his bunk, practically nose to nose with BJ. “I just got _done_ being psychoanalyzed—I thought we were drinking to celebrate the cease-sneeze, not doing a follow up on my therapy session.”

BJ shrugged, remarkably calm. “Just curious, Hawk,” he said softly. Hawkeye gave him a long look before retreating, reclining on his bunk again. Head propped up on one hand. “What was it you remembered?” BJ asked.

“Just something from when I was a kid,” Hawkeye said, toying with his now empty martini glass. “I had this older cousin, Billy—loved him. Looked up to him, _idolized_ him. I grew up always having such fond memories of him, ‘cause the guy saved my life. Or so I thought,” Hawkeye said, putting a pained grin on his face. “We were out fishing in the middle of a pond, just the two of us, and I uh… _‘fell in.’_ Billy reached in and grabbed me, I thanked him profusely seeing as I would have drowned otherwise, and I spent thirty-some years thinking of the kid as a hero when he was the one who pushed me into the pond in the first place!”

BJ winced in sympathy. “Ooh, that must have been fun to dredge up.”

“You’re telling me! Some of the best memories of my childhood, ruined because Billy Cohen thought it’d be funny to knock me out of the boat!”

“Cousin on your mother’s side?”

Hawkeye blinked at him. “Huh?”

“Billy Cohen,” BJ pointed out. “Not a Pierce—was he a cousin on your mother’s side? Or did your dad have sisters?”

“No, no, dad was one of three boys, all Pierces. Mom was an only child.”

BJ frowned. “Then where’d the family name go?”

Hawkeye sat up again, face to face with BJ. “Beej, what are you talking about?”

“Nothing, I guess,” BJ laughed. “Just wondering why your cousin didn’t have the same last name as you.”

“My cousin?”

“Billy,” BJ prompted. “The villain in your almost-forgotten story?”

“Billy? Oh, _Billy_. He… he wasn’t my cousin,” Hawkeye found himself saying. “He was…”

BJ stilled. “This ah… another detail you tweaked?”

Hawkeye said nothing, eyes fixed on BJ’s shoulder. His hands were gripping the edge of his bunk, tight.

“Hawkeye,” BJ said carefully. “If Billy wasn’t your cousin, who was he?”

“He was a kid who lived down the street,” Hawkeye murmured, not lifting his head. “All the kids in my neighborhood loved him—well, not the way I loved him. He was the king of a pack of little Crabapple Cove street urchins, prepubescent boys with nothing better to do than follow Billy around, vying for his attention. I don’t know why he let me hang around, I was so much younger than all his friends. Made me feel special,” Hawkeye said, a faint smile on his face. “That he let me tag along. And he made sure none of the other boys picked on me, made me feel out of place for being the little guy.”

“You two spend a lot of time together?” BJ asked.

Hawkeye nodded, still looking past BJ. Not quite meeting his eye. “Oh, yeah, loads. The aforementioned fishing, reading stolen magazines of an obscene nature in his father’s garage. He taught me how to yo-yo, how to ride a bike.” Hawkeye’s face split into a slow grin. “I used to love watching Billy ride—he always looked so carefree. Not a worry in the world. He, uh—his hair was just a little longer than most boys’. It would always get so tussled in the wind. And afterward, he’d make a big show of running a hand through his hair, straightening it out. The girls always loved it. Hell, I did too, I—”

Hawkeye froze. As if he’d realized he wasn’t just talking to an empty tent. He looked to BJ now, eyes wide in panic. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. Beej, I—”

“Hawk,” BJ said gently. “It’s okay.”

“Is it? Is it, BJ?”

“So he was more than just a friend,” BJ said, casual as could be. “Growing up, everyone has that cool older kid they idolize, hero worship, that sort of thing.”

“Well that’s just it, it _wasn’t_ that sort of thing,” Hawkeye said, growing agitated. “The sort of thing it _was_ was the sort of thing you don’t talk about,” he said, a manic smile on his face. “The sort of thing that I apparently buried so deep down, even a trained _psychiatrist_ couldn’t dig it out. I didn’t _have_ a cousin Billy. Billy Cohen was the perfect, charming boy next door, and—” Hawkeye dropped his head into his hands, just long enough to let out an agonized scream. “And _I loved him.”_

“Like one loves a perfect, charming _girl_ next door?” BJ asked in a murmur.

Hawkeye said nothing. BJ watched as his shoulders shook, his whole body wracked with sobs. _“I loved him,”_ Hawkeye cried. _“I loved him, I loved him.”_ He sat up with a gasp. “And he could never find out. I remember—I remember watching his face, every turn of the page of those— _damn_ magazines. Trying to figure out which girls made him drool the most, so I’d know who to pretend to lust after. And sure, most of them were knockouts, but queer little Hawkeye was just as interested in the mysterious outlaws and the gangsters in their neatly pressed suits. Bonnie _and_ Clyde, if you get my drift,” Hawkeye said, giving BJ a pointed look, weakened a little by the tears in his eyes.

“Hawk—”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone. Not even Sidney—if I was burying stuff as a defense mechanism, clearly there’s a reason I hid this from the guy who knows all my other deep, dark secrets. I can’t go home like this,” Hawkeye whimpered. “Not from… from someone finding out…”

BJ clapped a hand on Hawkeye’s shoulder. “I won’t say a word.”

Hawkeye gave BJ a teary laugh. “You’re one in a million. I mean—” Hawkeye dragged the sleeve of his robe across his face. “You’re certainly taking this well. Finding out your best friend is… is queer _and_ cracked up from his traumatic childhood.”

BJ glanced at the door to the Swamp. “Well, let’s just say it takes one to know one. I mean, my childhood wasn’t particularly troublesome, but… I did have my own boy next door.”

Hawkeye just stared. “You’re kidding.”

“Cross my heart,” BJ said, raising his right hand to promise.

“But— _Peg—”_

“Hey, you said Bonnie _and_ Clyde, remember?” BJ said, flashing Hawkeye one of those megawatt smiles, all teeth. “And as for Peg—well, the three of us have more in common than you might think.”

“What, did she grow up with a girl next door?”

“A few, from what she told me.”

“A few. Huh. Well I’ll be damned, BJ, I…” Hawkeye let out a weak laugh. The idea that _both_ Hunnicutts might be like him—it was too much to think about. The possibilities that implied were too good to be true. So for now, Hawkeye would just assume they weren’t. No sense in ruining a good daydream by thinking about it too hard. He’d just act like the Billy thing was still the biggest surprise of the day (and until a minute ago, it _had_ been—then BJ had to go and turn his whole world upside down).

“All this time,” Hawkeye said, “I told myself he was my cousin; I can’t believe this.”

“I think the problem is that you _did,”_ BJ pointed out. “For quite a while, might I add.”

“I didn’t stand much of a chance, not with myself telling the fib—he’s one of the sneakiest guys I know,” Hawkeye said. “Of course he had me fooled.”

“At least the long con is over now,” BJ said, finally lifting his glass to Hawkeye in a toast. “I don’t know about you, but I’ll drink to that.”

Hawkeye let out a short laugh. “Beej, I just broke down and finally admitted to myself I’ve been…” He stopped to look over his shoulder, lowering his voice. _“…Queer_ long before I even knew what that _meant_ —is that really something worth celebrating?”

BJ shrugged, took a sip of his martini. “Sure. Means I actually stand a chance with you.”

Hawkeye gaped at him. “I’m sorry, stand a chance with me?”

“Yeah, before it was all just wishful thinking. But now I think my odds are pretty good—I mean, I’m a nice guy. My idea of a good joke doesn’t involve sending someone to the bottom of a swimming hole, for starters.”

“And what do my odds look like?” Hawkeye asked, humoring BJ more than anything. He already knew the answer—even when he thought BJ only ogled one half of the magazine, so to speak, he knew he didn’t stand a chance. Peg Hunnicutt had beaten him to it, fair and square, so his odds of having anything with BJ were a big, fat goose egg.

But BJ just smiled. “Honestly, they’re looking pretty good, Hawk. Peg and I had to be a little vague to get anything past the censors, but we came to an agreement in our past few letters—if she decides to spend a little quality time with a girl next door, I’m not going to begrudge her that. God knows I understand the loneliness. And if I happen to meet a nice boy next door—” He gave Hawkeye a quick glance. “A sort of nice boy next door, anyway—Peg says go for it.”

“And is that what I am to you?” Hawkeye asked, a little numbly. “The boy next door?”

“You certainly are,” BJ said with a grin. “You just have to promise not to be a bad influence on me—my mother worries when I spend too much time with the older kids. Thinks we’ll get into mischief, end up egging the neighbor’s house.”

“Oh, does she think I’m an amateur?” Hawkeye laughed. “If you’re gonna be following me around our little Korean cul-de-sac, I’ve got much better things in mind than _that.”_

“Like what? Hawk, we’ve already done it all—we’ve gone fishing together, you taught me how to knit. I admit I’ve never had quite the same interest in your nudist magazines, but…” BJ leaned forward now, empty martini glass dangling loosely in one hand. Knees knocking right against Hawkeye’s. “You taught me how to get through Korea. The loneliness, the boredom, the terror—all of it. And every time I fell, you got me right on the bike again. You’ve been beside me the whole damn time.”

Hawkeye blinked. “Well when you say it like that, I guess I have. But Beej, I—”

He didn’t get to finish that sentence. BJ had leaned forward, closing the distance between them, and—okay, the mustache would definitely take some getting used to, since no one in the small group of guys Hawkeye had gone necking with in med school had even an _attempt_ at facial hair, but—god, it felt like coming home. The way BJ lifted one of his enormous hands to cradle Hawkeye’s face, warm and secure; the way he lingered even though they were still sitting in the middle of the Swamp and Charles could return from post-op any minute. But mostly the way BJ smiled when he finally pulled away. Not even a hint of shame or regret on his face. Just pure adoration.

Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe Hawkeye was still high on Benadryl, propped up on pillows in the VIP tent, and Sidney had yet to go digging through his scrambled egg memory—

“Hawk? You okay?”

“Hmm?”

“Was this okay?” BJ started to retreat. “I’m sorry, I should have asked before I did anything, I—”

“Oh ho ho, no you don’t,” Hawkeye said, grabbing BJ by the elbows and tugging hard—maybe overcompensating a little to hide the brief panic that arose at the thought of BJ leaving. He yanked BJ right off his seat on the corner of his trunk, and the two of them collapsed onto Hawkeye’s bunk, BJ right on top of him. The cot creaked pathetically under their combined weight.

“I don’t know where you think you’re going,” Hawkeye said, his face inches from BJ’s. “We finally got to the part of this conversation I was enjoying.”

“Just trying to give you a little space, Hawk,” BJ laughed. “My mistake.”

“Yeah, you bet it was your mistake,” Hawkeye muttered, eyes roaming all over BJ’s face, wondering how much longer they’d have the Swamp to themselves. “You know me, I never do anything halfway. I didn’t even get a chance to return the favor.”

“Better make it quick,” BJ murmured. “I’m supposed to relieve Charles from post-op at six.”

“How typical of you—married to your work,” Hawkeye quipped. “The honeymoon’s only just started, and—”

“Hawk.”

“Hmm?”

“Would you shut up and kiss me already?”

Hawkeye just flashed his most flirtatious grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> title is from 'reflections' by misterwives. 
> 
> i had no idea what the police gazette was--according to wikipedia, the magazine that billy stole from his dad was "a tabloid-like publication, with lurid coverage of murders, Wild West outlaws, and sport. It was well known for its engravings and photographs of scantily clad strippers, burlesque dancers, and prostitutes, often skirting on the edge of what was legally considered obscenity." so hawkeye was definitely joking when he said it was why he didn't know anything about sex lol. 
> 
> also i couldn't help including a line from one of my earliest otps, so there's a little easter egg in here for anyone who watched the agents of shield tv show :)
> 
> i'm onesweetbeautifulsong on tumblr, come say hi!


End file.
